"Joe, man, you ain't never been to any khaki balls since you been retired, mane," Wade asked me, in his Memphis drawl.
The Chief Petty Officer Khaki Ball, a Navy tradition is observed annually and takes place after the newly advanced chief petty officers don their uniform, and we, former and current chiefs, would host them in an official welcome to "the mess," or group, as some would bring their spouses or significant others as guests.
"Wade brother, I haven't been to one since I retired, and crazy as it sounds, I feel like this year I wanna go," I told the senior chief, as he was the command's liaison to the base, which sponsored it.
Since retiring I changed gears and kept my distance for the most part with naval affairs, as now I wasnt seceded to active duty members in my old position and didn't feel adequate interfering with leadership, or trying to admonish junior Sailors. Wade, who'd recently came aboard six months prior to asking to come to the ball, brought an energy that united all of us, as he still believed in Navy pride, regardless if you wore the uniform or not. He mentioned he spoke to Jack, the command master chief, about me coming and Jack made it clear be wanted all chiefs, active or not, to attend.
"I already bought you a ticket, and if you're plus one, let me know, and we'll make sure she's good, too," he said.
I wasn't too sure if I could still fit my khakis as I put on a few pounds since receiving my discharge, but if I couldn't, then I'd show up in a suit. I had two weeks either way to get ready to show my solidarity with the rest of the mess, as now I had something to look forward to.
A few days later, it went down.
"There's the old dog," said Jack, as I appeared in my khaki uniform, fitting it just fine.
All of the command's chiefs seemed surprised, as they'd never seen me in uniform.
"Brother, you look stunning," said a drunk Wade, as he was the one hyping me up the most. "You upstaging some of these young'ns in here."
I nodded and praised the 13 newly advanced chiefs, as they all looked good in khakis, and shined brighter. Tyrone, a chief yeoman that was the leading petty officer for the admin division when he was selected, was the one I hung close to the most as my team lots of times had to rely on his office as they constantly took care of our travel reservations. I let him know how proud of him I was, and that he shined the best.
"Well, its guys like you that helped me get to where I am," he said, as I noticed he had a 'print' in his pants.
"Your junior Sailors. Remember that," I told him as we hugged.
He'd walk through the crowd afterwards, while I retreated to a table. The ball, hosted at the local casino, had the boss set up wiith ice sculptures, chocolate fountains, champagne, as well as many waiters and waitresses walking around taking food and drink orders. I asked for a Jack Daniels and Coca Cola once this cute, petite lady came my way as I was looking to get a little tipsy since I wasn't one to dance, and barely mingled on this evening.
"Joe, get over here and cut a rug," a drunken Jack said to me as he would sneak behind me. "Can you do the cha cha or electric slide?"
I giggled.
"Jack, I may be the only guy, or white guy you know who can't," I told him.
"No ye ain't," he said with thunderous laughter and in a southern accent. "I promise you, you're not alone."
He sat with me, then Wade joined us, right as the waitress brought me my drink. The three of us sat there, "jonesing" on some of the younger chiefs who had a tad bit too much to drink, and who's wives were acting a little loose.
"Look at Carter's bitch. I didn't know she had that much jelly back there," Wade said of the armament division's chief's wife, a thick bottomed, thick chested, blonde with a little pep in her step.
"Buddy Tyrone came in here with an Asian chick. She's absolutely gorgeous," said Jack as we turned into their direction.
I felt something however didn't add up with Tyrone and the female, as I'd grown to know him over time and he never mentioned women. Even the way they were stepping on the floor looked awkward, almost as if they were staged. I'd come to a point since I started playing with cock that I had a radar, one that could gauge who was straight, and who wasn't, no matter how hard they went against the latter. I questioned Tyrone, and even Wade a little, as there were times he'd say sly jokes that were anti-homosexual, an indicator that he might've been curious.
"Joe man, you ain't bring anyone to the ball? You single, brother," Jack asked, as he happened to tap my elbow.
I looked in his direction, and our eyes caught. For a moment I looked deep into them as the liquor worked my system, and he smiled.
"Nah, no lady right now. I'm divorced, living my best life eating TV dinners and alone in the house," I told him.
"Well, you need to roll out with Wade sometimes. He's in his 40s, moving like he's in his 20s with these young, thick bottomed gals on base," he said, half jokingly.
